Harry Potter and the Heir to Gondor
A Harry Potter/Lord of the Rings fusion by Andrew J. Talon
Disclaimer: This is a fanbased parody work of prose. Please support the official release.
Author's Note: And another longer chapter...
The Weasleys, Harry, Hermione and Petunia managed to get to King's Crossing without further delay. The Aurors even helped them with their bags. So after some heartfelt goodbyes from Arthur and Molly, the schoolchildren and Petunia boarded the train. Hermione led the way, bringing them to their usual compartment. Though there was a surprise this time.
"Who's that?" Ron asked, as he looked upon a pale-haired man in shabby robes and suit. The man was sleeping, dead to the world, with a beaten up trunkcase at his feet. His face bore a few scars, underneath a pale mustache. Hermione tilted her head and read the lettering on the man's trunk.
"'Remus Lupin'. Huh! I suppose he's our new DADA teacher," Hermione suggested softly.
"New one?" Petunia asked quietly, her eyebrows knit in thought.
"Yes, Hogwarts has always needed to get a new one every year," Hermione reported. "The professor during our first year... Well he was possessed by You-Know-Who. And uh..."
Hermione and Ron looked at Harry awkwardly. Harry cleared his throat.
"I kind of... Burned him to death?" Harry offered.
Petunia blinked.
"And your second year?" She prompted.
"Oh, that professor was a fraud who tried to wipe our memories," Ron said, "but it backfired because he was using my old, broken wand. He erased his own memories."
Petunia glanced at Remus Lupin, her expression half pitying.
"I see," she said. She gave Harry a Look that indicated she was going to learn more, and Harry winced. Reformed by the magic of the Eldar or not, Aunt Petunia was still not one to trifle with.
She put her trunk up in the luggage bin, and sat down primly.
"Well, don't dilly dally, and don't make too much noise-He looks exhausted," Petunia said softly. The three children complied, and sat down on the comfortable benches. Soon enough, the train got started, and rumbled off on its long way to Hogwarts. Hermione busied herself reading, while Ron and Harry talked about their summers. Petunia leaned back, her eyes shut, as she either dozed or meditated.
Harry looked over at his aunt a few times, worrying at his lower lip. Ron frowned.
"You all right, Harry?" Ron asked, gesturing with his head over at Petunia.
"... My uncle's divorcing her," Harry said at last. "She's... All alone. And all she's got left is..." He shrugged. "Me."
Ron frowned.
"But she was so... He was so..." Ron tried, but Harry shook his head.
"I know," Harry said, "I know. But..." He grit his teeth as he looked over at his aunt. "She's bound by magic now. She wouldn't have done this if it was her own will. What am I supposed to do?"
Ron rested a hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Treat her like family," he murmured, "ya know. Like she should have been doing to you."
"You always have such easy answers, Ron," Hermione observed quietly. Ron shrugged.
"Some things are easy. You don't have to make them too complicated," he said.
"Some things are," Hermione insisted. Ron scowled.
"Only because you make them more complicated than they have to be," he grumbled back.
Hermione's retort was interrupted when the compartment doors opened. Draco Malfoy stood there, which wasn't unusual. The Malfoy Heir always came to do his usual bullying and gloating to Harry and his friends. This time though, Draco didn't have his bodyguards, Crabbe and Goyle, with him. Nor was he smirking or looking smug. He looked extremely uncomfortable, if anything.
"Ahem," Draco began, "Uh... Potter. I was wondering if..." He trailed off into a mutter. Hermione scowled.
"Wondering what?" She demanded. Draco looked over at Petunia, who was unmoving. He glanced at Professor Lupin, and his eyes finally returned to Harry.
"I would like to talk to Potter. Alone... Please," Draco managed.
"Why should he?" Ron demanded. Harry frowned, and focused. He held the handle of Anduril, and tried to listen.
His aunt's song was slow, harmonious, beautiful, but very sad. Remus Lupin's song was deep, speaking of woods, moons, old books and regrets. Hermione's was complex and brilliantly constructed, but prone to moments of chaos in an otherwise well organized song-Repressed anger. Ron's spoke of home, hearth, and happy times with family, but was cautious and suspicious.
Draco's... Was cold, imperious, but had no ill intent. No deceit.
Harry stood up, hand on Anduril's hilt. His other hand rested on his wand.
"All right Malfoy," Harry said, "fine. Alone. But if this is a trick? You will regret it."
Draco managed a nod. He stepped out. Harry stepped after him. Draco turned and headed down the hallway, to an alcove the cart witch used to refill her wares. Harry followed, hands still resting on his weapons. Draco took a deep breath.
"... Thank you," he said. Harry raised his eyebrow.
"For?"
"For... Saving my life," Draco grumbled.
"My aunt and my friends did most of the work," Harry pointed out, "why thank me?"
Draco grumbled.
"My moth-I am to thank you each individually. It is how the Heir of Malfoy should comport himself," Draco said, almost restraining a sneer. Harry hummed, and then nodded.
"You're welcome," Harry said. He turned, as Draco's jaw dropped.
"Wha-That's it?" Draco demanded. Harry looked back.
"You thanked me. I said 'you're welcome'. Does anything else have to be said?" Harry asked.
Draco grit his teeth.
"This is supposed to be a-a grand gesture!" Draco growled.
"Yes, I'm sure," Harry deadpanned. "But I want to get back before Ron eats all the snacks. I know he'll save some for me, but he can't help himself sometimes."
Draco opened his mouth to retort... When the train came to a stop. Harry reached out to grab onto the wall, as Draco nearly lost his footing. The Malfoy scion held onto the wall and braced, as the train rumbled to a stop. Draco looked around, eyes wide.
"We've stopped? Why have we stopped?"
"To take on water?" Harry suggested. Draco snorted.
"Don't you know anything? The Hogwarts Express doesn't need to take on water! It's magic!"
The lights went out. Draco gripped the wall more uneasily, and Harry began to look around. The train's temperature dropped, and Harry saw his breath cloud in front of his mouth. He squeezed the hilt of Anduril for reassurance, as the world seemed to grow darker, colder, and smaller.
"Wh-What's going on?" Draco squeaked. He trembled, and fell to his knees. He put his hands over his ears. "N-No! No, what are-What are you saying, Potter?!"
"Saying? I'm not saying any-!" Harry tried, but his vision began to darken.
"No... No... Don't kill Harry... Take me, take me instead...!"
A woman was screaming...
"Silly girl, get out of the way... Out of the way..."
Green... There were green flashes... Red hair waving like a flag, before a dark looming figure. Everything was becoming dark...
"Potter! POTTER!" Draco whimpered. Harry looked up. A tall, dark figure stood over him. Its face was wrapped in black cloth, like a funeral shroud. The rest of its body was covered in a black, ragged robe. Save for its hand-That was long, gray, and rotting: Like the legs of an undead spider. He could see two, three, four more such creatures-All looming over him.
"No! NO! PLEASE! NOT HARRY! PLEASE! KILL ME! KILL ME INSTEAD!"
He tried to listen for the song of the Valar... But it was nightmarish. Dark, heavy, oppressive music. It spoke of death, it spoke of decay, it spoke of doom... He tried to stop, but the music intensified!
The hand grasped his face. It was icy cold. He could feel colder, as though the very heat of his soul was being drained away...
Move! His mind screamed. MOVE!
He could only tremble, as the creature began to pull up its hood, and everything went dark.
A bright flash of glowing metal. The rotting hand fell, as the creature reared back with an unearthly scream. The other monsters floated back, unsure, as a woman in black stepped between them and Harry.
Petunia had Hadhafang out, and as the runes on the Elvish metal glowed blue, she snarled.
"I will kill you all if you touch him again!"
Petunia focused on anything she could: The need to protect Harry, the adrenaline surging through her blood. Away from the darkness and despair trying to consume her. The music of the Valar these creatures gave off was almost beyond belief-Dark and horrible. She tightened her grip on her blade, trying to remain fierce, even as her memories betrayed her.
She was twelve, crying her eyes out in a park at dusk. Her sister... Lily... Her best friend... Severus... They were going to a magic school... And she couldn't. On her lap was a letter from Professor McGonnagal. It was soaked with her tears.
The wraith she had dismembered moved back behind the other three. They could sense her fear, her sorrow, and began to advance on her. Petunia bit the inside of her cheek, the taste of blood filling her mouth. It was familiar too...
"Petunia! Why can't you learn this?" Her father demanded. Petunia pushed herself up from the ground, her face covered in dirt. She spat out blood, and scowled at her father's feet. He stood over her with a wooden training sword, shaking his head down at her. He pointed over to Lily, practicing with her own blade and doing it perfectly.
"You're the eldest daughter! You're supposed to safeguard the legacy!" Her father barked. "Why can't you be more like Lily?"
Lily turned and smiled beautifully. Petunia's fingernails dug into her palms, hard enough to draw blood...
One wraith lunged for her, frighteningly fast. Petunia shouted as she thrust Hadhafang into the monster's face, and focused on the music of the Valar. On the music of her nephew, so similar to Lily's... So weak and afraid...
"YAHHH!"
A white flash of magic erupted from the blade as it made contact with the monster. The wraith shrieked, grasping at its face as the wound burned. Petunia swung to the right, as another creature tried to flank her, it long arms extended. It hovered backwards, the third demon reaching above to a light fixture. The wood frosted over as it wrenched the fixture free, and threw it at Petunia.
"AUGH!" Petunia ducked, the fixture grazing her hair. She felt the song of the creatures from behind her, and swung around. She saw one reaching for Harry, who was seemingly going into convulsions.
"HARRY!"
It was a nightmare, one she'd had many times before. Lily stood there, her eyes black. Inky ichor ran down her cheeks.
"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO HIM?!" Lily screamed. "HOW COULD YOU ABUSE HIM?! YOUR OWN NEPHEW?! MY SON?!"
"I NEVER WANTED THIS!" Petunia shrieked back, "I NEVER WANTED ANY OF IT! IT'S YOUR FAULT YOU DIED! ALL YOUR FAULT!"
"GET BACK!" Petunia screamed, charging and thrusting the blade right into the dark wraith's chest. Its shroud burst into flames, as it screamed like a banshee. Petunia wrenched the sword out, panting hard, as she swung for the creature's neck!
With a flash of light, and a explosion of white flames, the monster's head came clean off. Even without its head, the monster screamed as it collapsed into a pile of burning ashes. Petunia swung back around. There were even more demons-All of them swarming right for her. She fell to one knee, cold exhaustion taking her.
She could barely hear the music. The warmth of her magic was fading. She was tired, so tired... Her sword was drooping, as her hands went numb.
Was it really worth it? It wasn't her choice to be here: It was magic's choice.
Magic that had empowered madmen and monsters.
Magic that had taken away her happiness.
Magic that had brought her here... To her death.
"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"
A powerful white mist filled the train corridors. Her blade burned as brightly as the sun as the magic touched her. Petunia could hear the song of the Valar, overwhelming, strong and beautiful as the pure white light filled the train.
The demons shrieked and fled in all directions, out the doors and windows and anywhere else. The lights slowly flickered back to life, and Petunia felt faint. She fell to her knees, and felt Hadhafang slip out of her numb fingers. Everything went black.
She felt warm, firm but soft fabric underneath her back. Gentle music filled her body. A leaf fluttered onto her cheek, and she blinked. She looked up into a warm face, wreathed by golden hair. Blue eyes filled with stars gazed upon her with love and understanding. She felt safe. Safer than she had in ages.
"... Mum...?" Petunia whispered.
"Not quite," the woman said softly, "but close enough, my daughter."
She felt a warm hand rest over hers. Petunia looked up, confused. The woman smiled kindly, and for a moment, Petunia felt at peace.
"What's going on?" Petunia asked. The woman kept smiling.
"You have many trials ahead of you, my daughter," she said, "as does your nephew... but do not despair. You are not a puppet of fate. Not if you choose otherwise."
"What... What do you mean...?" Petunia asked.
"You will know, in time," the woman spoke softly. "Now, wake up."
Petunia's eyes fluttered open, and she focused on a bare white, vaulted ceiling. She felt groggy and cold, but she focused on the music of the Valar and she began to warm up. Harry's face filled her vision, and he looked anxious and worried.
"Aunt Petunia?!" He cried. "Are you all right?!"
"I-I'm fine," Petunia managed. She slowly sat up, waving off her nephew's attempts to help her. She rubbed her temples. "Nngh... Where are we?"
She could see several hospital beds and privacy curtains. As well as several students in those beds, all looking shaken. A witch with a prim manner and wearing a nurse's uniform walked up, holding a plate of chocolate.
"Ah, you're awake!" She said, almost cheerfully. "Here, take one. It will help."
"Chocolate?" Petunia asked, raising an eyebrow. The nurse nodded.
"Perfect thing for a Dementor attack," she said. "Go on!"
Petunia took a piece of chocolate, a bit dubiously, and popped it in her mouth. Much to her surprise, she felt the warmth return to her body and her mind cleared. The music of the Valar filled her again, and a smile came to her lips. She looked to Harry.
"You should have some too-"
"Professor Lupin gave us some, after he made the Dementors flee," Harry said. Petunia's eyes widened.
"He used that spell then?" She asked. Harry nodded with a grin.
"Yeah! They all ran," Harry said. "He helped get you to the hospital wing."
"So we're at Hogwarts then," Petunia murmured. The nurse nodded.
"Yes, sorry. I'm Madame Pomphrey. You are?"
"Petunia Durs... Evans," she corrected herself. "I'm supposed to be here for security." She winced. "What were those things-Dementors you called them? Does Dumbledore know? We need to inform him-!"
Pomphrey snorted.
"Of course he knows! The Ministry put them on the Hogwarts Grounds for security!"
Petunia went very still. She could see Harry wince out of the corner of her eye. She imagined her own music was very dangerous sounding right now.
Good. He was learning quickly.
"Excuse me, please repeat that," Petunia said, as calmly as she could, "you're telling me the Ministry put those things here?"
Pomphrey nodded, looking horrified and angry.
"Yes! All to catch Sirius Black! Can you imagine the sheer stupidity involved in-!"
"Excuse me Madame Pomphrey," Petunia stated, slowly getting up. She held out her hand.
"Harry? My sword please."
"Er," Harry began, "Aunt Petunia, we need to go to the Sorting Feast-"
"My. Sword. Please," Petunia commanded, putting a great deal of magic into her words. Her voice deepened, and a rumble went through the air. It was enough that every student in the Hospital Wing was now looking her way in terror, and Madame Pomphrey was taken aback. Harry, though unshaken, went over to the wall, picked up Hadhafang, and brought it to her without further interruption.
"I will see you at the Feast, Harry," Petunia boomed. "Dumbledore and I need to have words."
Harry winced again, but nodded obediently.
"Yes Aunt Petunia..."
Harry headed down to the Great Hall, Hermione and Ron at his sides. They were met at the main doors by Fred and George. Fred shook his head and patted Harry on the shoulder.
"All right, Harry?" He asked.
"I mean, we saw you trying to fight those things," George said, patting Harry's other shoulder.
"Very heroic, if stupid," Fred said.
Plenty of whispering started up when he entered the Great Hall. Many eyes were on him as well, furtive and concerned looks abounded.
"Just ignore it, Harry," Hermione murmured.
Harry closed his eyes and groaned. He had more attention on him again. He didn't like being the center of it, but having negative attention was worse than the adulation.
"We all saw it! Potter just fainted because of the big bad Dementors!" Theodore Nott crowed from the Slytherin table, falling backwards mockingly. That got a few laughs out of a few Slytherins. Strangely enough though, there wasn't any from Pansy Parkinson. Or Draco Malfoy. Sure, there was a sneer on Draco Malfoy's face, but surprisingly, he wasn't the one saying anything.
Indeed, he was getting a lot more looks from Slytherin and Hufflepuff that were just plain unusual. Especially from the girls. Susan Bones stared intently at him, and when he locked eyes with her, she blushed and looked down. Harry decided to try and put it out of his mind. He sat down at his usual spot at the Gryffindor table, just as the last of the first years had been Sorted.
Strangely enough, while Professor McGonnagal was attending to the ceremony, Professor Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's Dumbledore?" Ron murmured.
"Hasn't shown up," Fred said, "and I don't see Harry's hot aunt anywhere, either."
"Seriously?" Harry grumbled.
Professor Lupin had shown up though. He sat at the table, looking much healthier after having some food. Snape was glaring at Lupin with a look of the utmost loathing, which was a bit much even for him. Harry frowned, and closed his eyes. He sought out the music...
Snape's was... Dark, brooding, and self loathing. It was bitter and spiteful and unpleasant to feel. It spoke of pain and anger at Lupin, but Harry couldn't quite figure out why. Lupin's on the other hand remained sad, but there was the memory of friendly smiles and starry nights in it when he looked at Harry.
He didn't know why that happened, either. And frankly, he felt rather tired of listening to the music of the Valar right now. He could feel the Dementors. Whether it was an echo in his mind, or he was truly sensing them, he didn't know. It wasn't pleasant though, and he shivered.
Damnit...
He was the heir to Gondor. He'd slain a Basilisk. And yet... Those things had incapacitated him. He hadn't even been able to draw Anduril! And his aunt... She'd tried to fight them off but if the Professor hadn't...
Anger and rage and protective beats...
He could hear his aunt's music, somewhere nearby. It was furious. Harry could also pick out a tune that seemed almost... Bumblebee like. Reminding him of the buzzing of bees as they went about their tasks in the sunshine. Though these bees definitely sounded angry too. They were just more controlled.
A moment later, a somewhat flustered but recovering Dumbledore entered the hall from the side door, and took his customary place at the head of the teacher's table. From the same door came Aunt Petunia, still glaring daggers at Dumbledore's back even as she crossed the hall. Plenty of whispers and gawking stares were directed at her, but she paid it no mind as she strode over and sat down next to Harry at the Gryffindor Table.
"Aunt Petunia," Harry tried, but Petunia shook her head.
"It's fine," she said quietly.
"Apologies for the delay," Dumbledore announced to the room, his voice magically enhanced, "I have a few announcements, but before then: Tuck in."
Food appeared on everyone's plates, and several students began to eat. Harry himself was famished, and he tore into his food with gusto even as Dumbledore continued.
"Firstly, and most importantly, we are playing host to the Dementors of Azkaban in their search for the fugitive Sirius Black," he paused, and Harry could feel the tension in everyone's Songs. Petunia especially, as she sucked in a deep breath next to him. "I suggest none of you approach them, or give any reason for them to approach or harm you. They are not swayed by words, they are not fooled by disguises, tricks-Or Invisibility cloaks," he intoned deeply.
Strangely, a few students other than Harry winced.
"Second," Dumbledore said, "there have been some staff changes. Our previous professor of Care of Magical Creatures has decided to retire with his remaining limbs: Therefore, Rubeus Hagrid will be our new instructor."
Harry clapped loudly for his old friend, and Hagrid wiped away some tears as he blushed. Ron cheered and whooped, as did Hermione. There was more scattered applause elsewhere, but Hagrid looked pleased all the same.
"We have a new Defense against the Dark Arts professor, Remus Lupin," Dumbledore said, nodding to the shabby looking man. Remus smiled and waved, and got a lot of applause from the students who had been in the train car with him. Petunia managed a smile, which actually made the professor blush.
"Professor Binns passed on to the other side," Dumbledore continued, and he waited for the whoops to die down, "and so we will have a new History of Magic Instructor-Mrs. Andromeda Tonks."
A beautiful woman with long black hair and bewitching eyes stood and bowed with a smile. That got plenty of male attention, especially from the older students, who all clapped and cheered. Draco didn't look very happy though-He glared. Like he was taking this personally. Harry wondered why-Mrs. Tonk's Song was dark but beautiful, like the night sky. He didn't mind the hooting George and Fred were doing-He felt the same way.
Least this woman wasn't his aunt.
"Finally, due to the increased security risks to the school, I have hired a Mistress at Arms-A security chief, for the Muggleborn," Dumbledore stated. "The only known person to slay a Dementor in one hundred years, and a formidable warrior and loremistress-Miss Petunia Evans. If you ever need help or protection, please, ask her."
Petunia got roaring applause, and she managed to stand gracefully, curtsy, and sit back down despite the whistles she received.
"I imagine you two have some 'protection' jokes?" She asked George and Fred. The Twins pouted, as Hermione and Ron blushed.
"Only if you're willing to listen!" Fred said.
"No thank you," Petunia said with a smile and a wink, "maybe when you two are older though."
"Oh, geez, Aunt Petunia!" Harry moaned.
And an extra bit written with the help of Typhonis...
Harry sat at the table, tucking into his dinner. Ron and Hermione ate alongside, while Aunt Petunia was cleaning up in the other room.
"I gotta say Harry, it's brilliant that your aunt is so hot-I mean, uh, nice," Ron managed, "but isn't she taking this a little too seriously? It's not like Gondor is still around anymore. You're not going to be a king."
Hermione lowered her book on Sindarin, and shook her head.
"Honestly Ron, Anduril is much more than that," she said, "connecting with Harry released a burst of magic through all of Wizarding Britain. Who knows what it may have woken up?"
Ron scoffed.
"Come on, what's the worst it could wake up?"
Harry winced.
"Maybe you shouldn't have said that, mate..."
The Acromantulas froze. All of them, including mighty Aragog, stopped moving and turned as one to look at a deep dark shadow. Slowly they began moving away from it, wordlessly as a bare human leg appeared.
No noise was made as it set foot on the ground. More movement and a beautiful woman stepped from the shadow. Clad in only a form fitting black dress, wordlessly she made her way across the clearing. The giant spiders parting before her as swiftly as they could. The only sound was their mandibles rubbing together and their own legs on the ground or in webs.
She walked through them, stately, gracefully yet none dared approach her. She walked through the clearing as if a horde of ravenous spiders were not present. She paid them no mind as she started following a trail a certain car had made. None of the Acromantulas moved from where they hid until she was long out of sight.
Three centaurs galloped up to her, the leader intently assessing her.
Dark eyes looked up as she strolled through the wood as if she owned them. She was pale of skin and exceedingly beautiful. However she only wore a simple black dress and no shoes. Yet she acted as a queen upon her throne.
"Who are you to enter our woods?" The lead centaur demanded, "begone now!"
A laugh escaped her throat. A genuine laugh. She looked at the three of them and smiled. A smile that did not reach her dark eyes.
"Your wood? Your wood? I claimed this wood before the Romans set foot on this land, before your herd was even a dream in your ancestors eye. Your land? It was called Forbidden because I dwell here and none have been able to physically challenge me. Not since the one who made me Guardian. However I have learned mercy. So go back to your herd and...I will forget you exist little fly. Push me and I will show you why those lesser spiders fear to enter MY lair."
"Stranger, what is your name that you make so bold a claim?"
"Shelob, daughter of Ungoliant. Guardian of this wood."
They froze. Froze as the darkness gathered about her. As the two eyes she had were seemingly joined by six more that glowed a baleful light. The three centaurs turned and left. Unwilling to face this monster in human form.